


But You Taste (Like Sugar)

by orphan_account



Series: Alpha/Omega AU [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Blood, Bottom Jean Kirstein, Dark Marco Bott, Extremely Dubious Consent, First Time, Forced Bonding, Jean's having a real bad time, Kidnapping, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Jean Kirstein, Omega Verse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Titan Marco Bott, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 22:38:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4117330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four Door Aventador Offshoot/Alternate path. One of many potential outcomes of Marco’s occasionally shitty behavior</p><p>The shifters manage to escape the soldiers after them, taking Jean, Krista, and Eren with them. Marco has some plans for the omega and none of them bode well for Jean, who is the throes of his first heat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But You Taste (Like Sugar)

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own a thing.  
> Song choice: LIke Sugar by Matchbox Twenty  
> Notes: Whelp. I feel like I should explain myself but I’ve got nothing. I’m an awful person. This is actually where FDA started but then I went back and started writing from the beginning and decided I didn't want to go this way so it sat. Unbeta'd, so all mistakes are my own (and probably considerable)  
> Umm. Heh. Look. Marco is the worst (You get your brain nibbled on and tell me how totally together you are after, okay?) and Jean is his victim. And that’s without even getting into the creepy stuff Bertolt is up to. *side eyes Bert* Someone needs to save Eren. But more about that later!

_I'm walking behind you_  
_Calling the way you_  
_Give away all your secrets_  
_You're taking the high road_  
_And picking your battles_  
_Just like the day I found you_  
_I just want to make you go away_  
_But you taste like sugar_  
_Yeah you taste like sugar_  
_I just want to make you go away_  
_But you taste like sugar_  
_Yeah you taste like sugar_  
_Oh oh-oh-oh oh-oh_  
_Oh oh-oh-oh oh-oh_  
_I'm starting to want you_  
_More than I want to_  
_This ain't my finest hour_  
_There's something about you_  
_That I could get in to_  
_Something that's deep inside you_

 

 

 

Jean woke up to the sound of someone in his ear, calling his name. He groaned, vision blurry, and blinked watery eyes until things started to come into focus. The soft dark shadow in front of him took shape, becoming sharper and human shaped.

Honey brown eyes peered at him thoughtfully.

“Ngh. Marco?”

The shifter flashed him a pleasant smile. “Hey. How do you feel?”

Jean blinked again then brought his arm up, intending to rub the last of the blur from his eyes. Or he tried to do that, only to find he couldn’t raise his arms. He tried again and, with a growing sense of panic, realized he was bound tightly. He looked down and saw thick ropes criss-crossing over his chest, tying him to the chair he was sitting in. His hands were free but useless, pinned to his torso as they were, and when he tried to move his legs he felt more ropes keeping him firmly in place.

He looked back at Marco, finding his friend’s smile hadn’t dimmed at all. He swallowed then let his eyes dart around. There were in dim room, the only light source he could see was the sunlight streaming through the windows. The room was trashed; drawers pulled open and dumped, bed in the far corner unmade with sheets twisted and tangled, clothes and odds and ends littering the floor. There was a kind of staleness to the air, as if a window hadn’t been opened in a very long time, and he could see dust coating every flat surface in sight. It was hot, just on the edge of uncomfortably so, and Jean could feel sweat beading on his forehead.  

Marco watched him make his observations patiently and, perhaps, with a bit of humor. It annoyed him but he schooled his face into a curious expression; he couldn’t afford to get angry or make Marco angry.

Easier said than done. Getting people mad was kind of Jean’s specialty but he supposed he could, just this once, keep a cool head. He was at a distinct disadvantage after all, being bound and lacking any information that would explain how he’d ended up this way, so at the very least he needed to solve the latter part of his situation.

“Where are we?” There. Nice easy questions. He could do this.

“Some house about halfway between Wall Rose and Wall Maria.” Marco cast a glance towards the window. “Looks like it was never actually hit by the titans, just evacuated in a hurry. Everything is mostly intact.”  

Jean considered that then shivered. He wasn’t sure if it was being outside of Wall Rose, the fact they were apparently just hanging out in something that stood as a testament to the chaos and death Reiner and Bertolt had cause, or the casual way Marco was talking that was making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Probably a combination of all of it.

Well all of that and the fact he was tied to a chair with his probably-not-best-friend-anymore watching over him.

“How long have we been here?”

“In this place in particular? Got here just as the sun was coming up. How long since I...you know, abducted you? About 3 weeks.”

Jean’s mouth dropped open. 3 weeks? How was that possible? There was no way he’d been out 3 weeks. He said as much and Marco nodded before shrugging.

“Bertolt did that thing. You remember, when we were in the wagon and he...put you under? He calls it Omega space. Makes omegas quiet and agreeable. We brought you out because your heat is starting. Plus Bert said it was hard to keep you under control while dealing with Eren’s ‘Bitchy Alpha Shit’...and he was worried your brain would turn to oatmeal.”

Jean wanted to snap and tell Marco to stop talking about that weird alpha/omega stuff he’d told Jean about before, back when they were on the wall, but he was still working on being agreeable. Instead he thought back, looking for his latest memory. He saw flashes of stuff; Krista’s worried face, Bertolt in his face, a hand on his shoulder, while Reiner paced behind him. Eren, looking sullen and furious.

The last thing he could clearly recall was being in one of the giant tree forests, trying to rescue Eren and Marco (and maybe Ymir but he’d been pretty skeptical on that; Ymir had always given him a bad feeling). Then they’d come across Ymir in her titan and form; she’d been still and silent until Krista had entered the scene. Then Ymir had lunged forward, catching a surprised Krista in her jaws and taken off into the trees.

They’d gone after her but something had distracted him.

_A rustle of leaves and a flash of tan out of the corner of his eye made Jean twist around. All of a sudden he felt the itchy sensation of being watched, pinpricks like insect legs marching over the back of his neck._

_“Jean?” Armin’s voice, laced with worry._

_“I’m fine!”_

_“You shouldn’t separate from-”_

_“Go find Eren!” He snapped, eyes still intent on where he was sure he’d seen something. He could almost feel the blond teen’s hesitation then a soft sigh and he knew Armin had taken off after the others._

_Another rustle behind him and he turned, gripping his blades tightly, only to find Marco standing in a tree a short distance from him, peering at him anxiously. He was wearing 3D-gear but was weaponless and was sporting what looked like a fresh black eye._

_Jean let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding then leapt from the branch he’d been standing on to close the distance between them. “Fuck Marco. What the hell is going on? Ymir just...ate Krista and took off! Where’s Eren? Did you get away? What happened to Reiner and Bertolt?”_

_Marco stared at him, eyes a shining gold and face more serious than Jean could remember ever seeing it. “I was afraid I wouldn’t see you again.”_

_Jean blinked, feeling warmth spreading over his cheeks. That was dangerously close to some kind of serious emotional sentiment that he really wasn’t prepared to handle at the moment. Not that Marco seemed to care much about that; being too busy kissing him, giving him dark smoldering looks, dropping all kind of crazy shit on him and then getting snatched by Reiner and Bertolt, leaving Jean to basically freak out and feel all sorts of feelings he just didn’t want to feel right now because it was just too much to deal with._

_“This is not the time for you to get all creepy on me.” Is what he ends up muttering. “We need to get out of here, back to the horses I guess. Or try to catch up with the others while they chase Ymir.”_

_Marco smiled slowly. Jean’s stomach clenched. “When is a good time for you?”_

_He had half a mind to say never but Marco’s smile dropped away abruptly, turning into a sad frown. His eyes flickered to a point beyond Jean’s shoulder; Jean started to turn but something hard came down on the back of his head._

_His vision went dark._

“What hit me in the forest?”

“Bertolt.” Marco looked contrite for a moment. “I think he was still angry that I bit him. I thought punching me in the face had made things even but I guess not.”

Jean’s hands clenched. “You bit Bertolt?”

And wow, what was this surge of anger that thought brought up in him? It washed right over his fear and worry and he found himself glaring sharply at the other teen. Marco looked confused for a moment then laughed.

“Are you jealous?”

He looked away, refusing to acknowledge the question or Marco’s amused expression. He didn’t think he was jealous; he could acknowledge that there was something going on between him and Marco lately, he felt drawn to his friend like a suicidal moth to a flame, but he couldn’t explain why biting would make him so furious; it wasn’t like Marco was going around making out with other people.

Not that he was making out with Jean either. There had been that kiss before they’d gotten tossed into jail, that hard consuming kiss that still made his heart beat faster when he thought about it, but nothing since. Not that there was any time for that sort of thing.

Not that Jean was interested…

There wasn’t really any point in lying to himself. Not right now, not when he was staring hard at the wall and biting back the urge to yell at Marco. It wasn’t his normal kind of anger either, but a strange howling thing on the edge of his mind that he couldn’t quite grasp and understand.

He’d felt it once before, when Marco had been glaring down at him and he’d felt the urge to back down, make himself smaller, bare his neck. That had been surreal and this was no less strange.

Marco was suddenly crowding close, straddling his lap and settling arms around his neck. Jean tilted his head back, the only thing he could do to create distance in his current situation, but a hand pressed against the back of his neck, rough fingers pressing hard into his skin.

Gold eyes gleamed then fingers crept up, fisting his hair and yanking his head to the side harshly. Marco leaned closer, lips ghosting over the skin below his ear and Jean shivered in spite of himself.

“You don’t have to be jealous you know.” Now Marco’s lips touched his ear and his voice was a raspy noise that had his stomach flipping. Something wet touched his ear and he inhaled sharply, hands clenching into fists again. “You’re mine Jean.”

Teeth grazed his ear lobe and his resolve to not get angry or flip out broke. He thrashed as best he could, which wasn’t all that well considering, twisting his hips and pushing his feet against the floor in an attempt to dislodge his captor.

Marco snorted quietly then rolled his hips slowly and Jean was acutely aware that the shifter’s ass was right above his crotch. He swallowed a whine and was rewarded with a short laugh pressed into his neck. He felt Marco’s lips part as his mouth opened  and blunt teeth press lightly into a spot midway between shoulder and jaw.

He went still, breath catching in his throat and heart stuttering in his chest. For a moment there was just the feeling of teeth against him then Marco bit down and Jean swore, arching up at the flash of pain-pleasure that followed it. Teeth dug in hard and he was sure it was enough to break skin and it hurt but at the same time his whole awareness focused down to Marco’s mouth, warm and wet, against his skin and Marco’s hands, one buried in his hair and the other on his shoulder. Marco ground his hips forward now and Jean heard himself cry out before the world exploded into piercing whiteness, followed swiftly by darkness and silence.

He came back to himself aware of a few things.

First he wasn’t sitting anymore. Instead he was stretched out on something soft, arms pulled above his head and bound to something with something rough. Probably the bed he’d noticed earlier.

Second he’d lost his shirt and pants, clad only in his boxers now, and yet he felt really hot; too hot. Also kind of itchy all over and stiff, like his skin was suddenly just a little bit too tight around him.

Third he was very aware of a smell that seemed to be everything; it was deep and warm, kind of spicy, and something about it was making his mouth water. (When was the last time he’d eaten anyway?)

Lastly there was something warm and slippery running down his backside and thighs. It was a weird sensation that only got weirder when he shifted his weight in an attempt to get away from the wetness that was seeping into the sheets below him. He gasped at the tingle the sheets rubbing against him then flushed as he felt his cock twitch..

What was-

“You awake?” He turned his head to the side to see Marco crouched next to him. He frowned in response and was rewarded with an eyeroll.

Something thrust into his mouth; he tasted skin and copper and felt something dribble onto his tongue. He swallowed reflexively, tongue stroking over the intruder before he knew he was doing it then realized, mind working sluggishly as it strained to catch up, that two of Marco’s fingers were in mouth.

Jean gagged and Marco pulled his hand back and brought it up to peer at it curiously. His fingers were oozing blood; Jean’s stomach roiled and he just barely managed to not gag again. Once he was sure he wasn’t going to puke he managed to bite out a question.  

“Marco what the fuck was that?”

“Which part?” Marco didn’t look bothered and, in fact, looked pretty pleased with himself. Almost smug. He didn’t know this side of Marco at all. Not that he knew himself either. He was pretty sure he’d never been into people biting him hard enough to draw blood and certainly not to a degree that he came hard enough to basically black out.

“Which part?” He asked, sputtering. “What’s going on? Are you working with Reiner and Bertolt? Even knowing what they are? You lied to me?”

Marco’s expression clouded. “I would **never** lie to you, how could you even think that? I wasn’t working with them but they made me an offer worth taking.”

“They kill people. Eat people! We saw Bertolt eat a soldier on the wall.” Marco didn’t appear moved. “What the hell do they have to make you overlook that?”

“You.” Marco said flatly. “Your safety. A life outside of the walls.”

Jean could feel a headache starting. Everything Marco said or did just made the situation more confusing for him and even his answers just caused more questions.

Marco must have seen something on his face because he sighed. “There’s so much you don’t know about what’s really going on inside the walls Jean. Secrets about the titans, the walls, the people...things that are being kept from everyone. People who don’t fit, people like me and you or people who ask too many questions...they just go missing. I had to protect you.”

“By kidnapping me, mauling my neck, and tying me to a bed.”

Marco’s smile was wide and showed too much teeth. “No. I kidnapped you because you wouldn’t have come willingly, I ‘mauled’ you so you won’t leave, and...admittedly the bed tying is because I thought I’d like it.”

Jean made a pretty decent attempt at kicking the other teen in the head but it was a weird angle and Marco just moved away, laughing. It didn’t help that every time he moved the sheets rubbed against his bare skin and had him flushing and making involuntary embarrassing noises. In the end he managed to get into a sitting position and press himself back against the headboard, legs drawn up to this chest in some attempt at modesty because where had his pants gotten to anyway?

He was panting and sweating, though he hadn’t done nearly enough to be worn out, and he could feel his heart hammering into his chest. He felt off balance and queasy, like the world was tilting; he closed his eyes and pressed his face against his arms, trying to calm his breathing.

He heard Marco moving around then “I’m going to go but I’ll be back before you get really bad.”

Jean wanted to ask what he meant by ‘really bad’ but when he picked his head up a wave of dizziness struck him and made the world spin. When it finally stopped he was alone. He blinked then slowly turned to stare at the rope around his wrists.

 

\------

 

He worked on getting free but all too soon he figured out what ‘really bad’ must have been in reference to. His stomach started cramping painfully, he felt feverish, blazing hot and pouring sweat but shivering hard enough that his teeth was chattering, and he’d come to the very disturbing realization that the slick fluid was actually leaking out of him.

He couldn’t even begin to get his mind around that, nor the almost painful sensitivity he felt when he’d felt around back there trying to figure out what the actual fuck was going on. He’d considered shouting for Marco to come back but in the end he’d been too mortified to do anything but sit against the wall and try to attach the symptoms to any illness he was aware of. The stone against his back was cool and provided a reprieve from the fire raging inside of him, helped him think.

He’d been sick before, the usual colds and he’d caught the flu once when he was younger, but this was nothing like that, not really. He pushed closer to the wall and drove his teeth into his lower lips, muffling a pained yelp as his stomach cramped again.

He didn’t know what this was and, considering the circumstances, that was terrifying. He figured Marco must have done something to him; at this stage he figured he couldn’t put anything past the shifter. Marco wasn’t the person he’d been before, that much was pretty fucking clear.

The sun had set and the room was dark, with only the light from the small sliver of the moon in the sky passing through the dusty window, by the time Marco came back. He couldn’t say how long it had been, had lost any concept of time in spite of his training to be able to get a rough idea of time via the sun’s position. His head felt heavy, thoughts sluggish, and it was hard to focus on anything except his body. He wasn’t sitting anymore, had slumped down onto his side but was still pressing into the wall, breathing shallowly.

He looked up at the sound of the door opening, watched Marco step inside then stop, a shiver rippling through his body. Then Marco pulled the door shut and crossed over to him, easing carefully onto the edge of the bed.

Jean was acutely aware of the the delicious spicy scent he’d noticed earlier. It had never gone away, but had been fainter while Marco was gone. Now however it was stronger than ever and he found himself licking at his lips, hunger rising up to make itself known again.

A hand touched his shoulder and he arched up, breath hissing out past clenched teeth. His vision swam. “Don’t touch me! Get away!” He spat the words out but they sounded small and hollow to his own ears, no conviction behind them.

He didn’t think he really wanted Marco to go away. He was almost positive he wanted him to come closer, wanted him to touch him more. Wanted...something that he couldn’t put a name to.

He could feel the hesitation in the air then Marco wasn’t touching him and a noise that sounded far too much like a whine lodged in his throat, coming out as a pathetic confused. He winced at the sound but, when Marco laughed, he glared over at the other teen like he wasn’t falling apart at the seams.

“You did something to me. Poison?”

Marco shook his head then turned away for a moment, setting something on the ground, before reaching out again. Jean wanted to try to get away or fight back but once Marco’s hands were on him again the desire to fight drained away. He was distantly horrified at how he went limp and let himself be maneuvered carefully so he was in Marco’s lap, legs on either side of Marco and in so close they were chest to chest. Marco caught his bound wrists and brought them up and over his head so Jean’s arms were around his neck.

“I said don’t touch me.” He said, cringing at the gasping whimper that was his voice.

“Shhh.” Was the soft response.

Being pressed against Marco just made things worse. Skin, just a little bit cooler than his own, and rough fabric rubbed against him and he was shaking and making small noises that made him want to just curl up and die rather than be letting out. The smell was thick, in Jean’s nose and on his tongue, so heavy in the back of his throat that he was nearly gagging on it and he wanted it.

“Don’t.” He didn’t know what he was telling Marco not to do but he could feel a charge in the air and he felt something strange curling low in his stomach, a gnawing empty ache. “Please.”

Jean couldn’t remember ever saying please to anyone about anything but he felt like he’d be willing to fucking beg. His body felt heavy, skin stretched to tight and thin and he couldn’t move, could only stare at the headboard behind Marco and breathe.

An arm looped around his waist and a hand touched his chin, forcing him to look up into honey brown eyes. Then Marco was leaning in, pressing their mouths together and sharing his air and Jean _sighed_. Marco’s lips were dry and chapped, their noses bumped, and when Marco’s tongue thrust into his mouth he groaned, eyes sliding shut.

Fingers brushed over the skin over his ribs, leaving cool tingling trails behind and making him shiver, then pressed into the small of his back before dipping lower. Marco pulled back slowly, tongue running over Jean’s lower lips and teeth following, scrapping over and nipping gently, before releasing him.

Jean blinked; his head felt like it was full of bugs, thoughts flighty buzzing things he couldn’t grasp onto. Somewhere in there he was bothered, frantically screaming at himself to stop, but he wanted to swipe at that, push it away. He moved, trying to catch Marco’s mouth again because he knew he wanted that but the hand on his face moved to his shoulder, pushing him down into Marco’s lap firmly.

“You smell amazing.” Marco murmured.

Fingers drifted over the cleft of his ass, gliding through the slick fluid that had dripped out and spread there. Jean squirmed at the unfamiliar almost tickling feeling then shook as a finger pressed against the small puckered muscle he’d identified as the source of the slick earlier in the day. Jean’s mouth dropped open and a thin shaky noise fell out as he blinked rapidly; Marco was looking at him intently, eyes so dark they seemed almost black in the shadows of the room.  

Marco’s fingers rubbed over him for a moment and Jean shifted, trying to spread his legs further apart, sliding down in Marco’s lap until his own dick was pressed against Marco’s pants covered hardness. He pushed his hips forward, grinding against Marco, knowing instinctively it would help him get what he needed. Marco made a pained noise then kissed him again; it was open mouthed, hot, and wet; teeth clinked and bit while the hand on his shoulder clenched tighter.

One finger pressed forward, lightly at first then firmer, sliding inside. It burned some, felt strange and full and almost painful but not exactly, and Jean stayed still, unsure. Marco’s finger slid deeper then started to pull out, dragging back slowly, and plunged back in as hips rolled up. It was Marco who moaned into his mouth this time. Jean found himself letting out a trembling breath and pushing back into Marco’s hand carefully. It wasn’t bad but it wasn’t exactly good and he felt stretched and right and oh as Marco thrust up against him again and his cock rubbed over Marco’s stomach where his shirt had rucked up.

The burn faded as he rocked against Marco, focusing on the good feelings, but then another finger was pressing into him and he buried his face into Marco’s neck, whimpering as the odd feeling of fullness. Marco mouthed over his shoulder, pressing light sucking kisses here and there.

He kept still as the fingers moved inside of him, suddenly very aware of the stuff dripping out of him and how it seemed to be leaking faster now. The two fingers in him curved and twisted and Jean shrieked, pushing back as something that felt so good it nearly hurt coursed through him. Marco stilled for a moment then, with a questioning noise, repeated the action.  

It didn’t take much more before he was panting and squirming, rocking against the fingers fucking into him, spreading apart from each other to stretch him wider and rub him from the inside, and Marco’s crotch, the pressure in his stomach building and coiling as pleasure licked at him, warm and sharp. Marco sighed against his shoulder then teeth pressed into him hard and Jean practically sobbed as he came, ribbons of hot cum splashing his stomach, and clenched his eyes closed.

There was a moment of silence where he felt tired and spent and calm and content. He made a noise that sounded almost like a purr and nuzzled against Marco.

Then he blinked, the haze that had fallen over his thoughts pulled back and the maddening heat and ache receded back to a tolerable level, leaving everything painfully clear. He pulled back as much as he could. It wasn’t that far, since his arms were around Marco’s neck and two large hands were on his hips, keeping him in place.

He caught a raised eyebrow and brown eyes flecked with gold then brought his head forward as hard as he could against Marco’s. There was a crunch and something wet splashed against his cheek.

“Fuck!” Marco swore, ducking away and then shoving him with surprisingly strength. Jean hit the wall, teeth clacking and cutting into his tongue as his head smacked stone. His eyes watered with the bite of pain but he kept them open, glaring at Marco was was now on his feet, clutching his nose. Even in the dark Jean could see something, blood, dripping between his fingers.

“I think you broke my nose.”

“Good! Maybe you'll stop... _this_ now!” He shouted back, breathing hard. "Is this why you kidnapped me? So you could...rape me? What's wrong with you?"

Marco rocked back, eyes wide and bewildered for a moment. Then they narrowed, becoming glowing pinpricks. “Oh.”

Jean could taste his own blood in his mouth and it made him feel queasy but when Marco’s hand darted out, wrapping around his ankle, he still kicked out and flailed around, trying to get out of the other teens grasp. But Marco’s grip was hard and just got tighter the more he fought until he was sure he could feel the bones grinding against each other.

Marco growled, low and throaty, and it made something in Jean clench up hard then flicker with heat. Another growl and Jean’s world tilted and flipped; he was on his front now, or as much as he could be with his arms bound like they were, forcing his shoulders up off of the bed. He felt the bed dip with Marco’s weight and tried to scramble up onto his knees and away. Marco yanked his ankle, sending him off balance and falling flat again. Then weight settled onto the back of his thighs and hands pressed against his shoulder blades.

He drew in a sharp breath and stopped moving. He could feel Marco’s erection against him.

“Hey!” He wanted to tell Marco to not do something he couldn't take back but then they were past that point and it was starting to get hard to talk again. His throat felt tight and even though he was angry and  _afraid_ it was hard to hold onto, the feelings slipping away under the weight of Marco's body. 

“Shhh.” Was the hissed response. One of Marco’s hands left him and Jean craned his neck around to see what was happening. He watched Marco pop the button on his pants then reach his hand inside.

“You’ll have to let me know if this hurts. Never done it before. Wanted to wait until the next wave of your heat but.” Marco shrugged.  

Jean shuddered.

**Author's Note:**

> *coughs*  
> *Looks sideways*  
> *innocent whistle* Oh hey, would you look at that. I’ve got...a thing. Over there.


End file.
